Fall From Grace
by Yoru no Angel
Summary: Asbel Lhant is like any other teenager; he has dreams, ambitions, and problems too - especially with his parents. Then, one day, his life is turned upside down and his dream becomes a nightmare. High school AU. Richard/Asbel/Cheria.


The high school costumes in the PS3 version were just begging to have an AU fic written about them! Even though this is an AU, I still tried to draw parallels with the game events and stuff… oh, and almost everyone is a year younger, with the exception of Pascal who is now 18 instead of 22.

I'll also be using the Japanese school system, although I want to avoid writing about the actual classes. :P

So yeah… hope you enjoy the first chapter!

* * *

**Fall From Grace**

"Slacking off again?"

Asbel Lhant barely heard the voice. His focus remained on the open sketchbook on his lap, his pencil moving rapidly across the page, lost within in the scene he saw in his mind.

"Asbel! Are you listening to me?"

A long shadow suddenly fell over the page and obscured the lighting. He slowly raised his head; a pair of narrowed umber eyes stared back at him – Cheria Barnes, his oldest and best childhood friend.

"The semester has barely started and you're already skipping class," She chided.

He waved a hand at her, beckoning her out of the way of the sunshine, "Save your breath Cheria, I've heard it all before."

"Yes, you have. So when are you going to let it sink in?" Arms akimbo, Cheria seemed to grow in size. For someone so petite and feminine, she could be awfully imposing when she wanted to be!

"Ahh…" Asbel scratched at his temple with his pencil, "Never."

Her shoulders sunk with a sigh, "This is why you don't have any friends, you know."

Asbel blinked in confusion, "Why would I need anyone else when I have you?"

"I-I'm obligated. I've known you since forever," She muttered, as her cheeks turned a muted shade of pink.

He grinned at her; she hadn't changed at all since they were kids. And neither had he, based on what she and everyone else said.

The way the sunlight played across her magenta hair drew his attention to her delicate features – her long eyelashes, the peak of her nose and lips coloured ever-so-slightly by pink lip-gloss (even though it was on the list of the school's contraband). Everyone regarded her to be the prettiest girl in school – too bad her looks were marred by the constant frown.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Asbel asked. He absently started to sketch a face in the corner of his page. "Aren't you missing out on class?"

"I was on my way back from the bathroom when I saw you out here," Cheria explained, "Really, what if I'd been a teacher? If you're going to skip, at least pick a better hiding place."

"The top student is giving me pointers?" He said, with mock horror, "How scandalous!"

"The top student shouldn't even be associating with slackers like you," She said flatly.

"And yet you still do."

"I know. It baffles me too." Cheria shook her head, "I have to get back to class."

Asbel raised his hand in a cheerful wave, "Have fun!"

He continued watching Cheria as she stalk across the yard, until she disappeared behind a set of large wooden doors. With no other interruptions, he returned his focus to his sketchbook, concentrating on his drawing.

Which class did they have now anyway? …Math. An exceptionally useless subject. He only really liked Art class. Sometimes English was okay too, when they read interesting books (and how often did they do that?), and P.E would be more fun if Coach Victoria didn't act like such a hard taskmistress all of the time.

Asbel knew Cheria was only doing what she thought was best for him, she always had. The difference was he didn't have an image to uphold like she did. What did they say – once a slacker, always a slacker? And Miss Cheria Barnes? Not only was she the most beautiful girl in Barona High, she was also the most popular, most kind-hearted, the sort of girl who smiled at you in the hallway and said hello even when she didn't know your name.

Well, she was kind-hearted if your name wasn't Asbel Lhant.

They really had known each other forever though, ever since they were toddlers. He, his younger brother Hubert and Cheria all went to kindergarten together, then elementary school, middle school, now high school. They hung out after school too, but lately they'd been growing apart. Cheria was too busy being perfect and Hubert was just being an ass.

She really didn't need to worry so much. Asbel had it all figured out. Academia didn't sit well with him, so what's the point in wasting all that time and effort when he was going to fail anyway? But drawing, on the other hand…

Asbel added the final flourishes to his drawing and gave the picture one last glance over. He nodded, satisfied. He'd created the character and plot all by himself: the story of a regular teenager who was a student by day, and by night, he swathed himself in black and became a crusader of justice called Masque de Barona.

Now this, this would be his ticket to fame and fortune.

* * *

Asbel paced back and forth outside of his house. Every so often, he stopped and stared at the front doorhandle, but every time he turned away.

He never bothered to show up for the final class of the day, which meant the only class he had actually attended was homeroom – well, barely. He'd been late for that too. Cheria was wrong about the teachers; he'd wandered around campus all day long and no one bothered to stop him, no one even spared him a second glance. To escape the rush of students and a furious Cheria, Asbel had jumped the fence before the home time bell rang. He spent a few hours in the main shopping district of town, browsing the stores and loitering around the arcade until the owner chased him away for not spending any money.

Left with nothing else to do, Asbel gave in and headed home.

Maybe sneaking through the back way would be a safer option? With any luck, Aston would've already locked himself away in his office and wouldn't hear him come in. Then again, his father's office overlooked the back garden, and his desk faced the window.

Decisions, decisions.

Asbel rubbed at his chin as he stared into the sopheria flowers that grew beneath the windowsills. He'd use the front door – if his father did confront him, his mother would play peace-keeper, and while everyone was distracted, he could escape to his room.

"All right." Asbel pulled open the door.

Sounds from the kitchen and the scent of dinner cooking on the stove drifted down the hallway, but there was no one in the living room. The coast was clear. He closed the door, kicked off his shoes and began his trek down the hall.

"Asbel, is that you?" His mother, Kerri, appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Hey Mum!" He called out quickly.

He cleared half of the hallway in three strides. The stairs were just up ahead.

"…Where have you been?"

The deep voice stopped him in his tracks.

Aston Lhant slowly descended the stairs, his pounding footsteps sounding like a countdown to the doom he was about to experience.

_Just keep cool._

Asbel kept his head low and continued on his way, "School."

He was stopped by a strong hand on his upper-arm.

"What kind of fool do you take me for?" Aston asked dryly, "Your school called. You were late again, and then you skipped afternoon classes and cleaning duty. Where were you?"

Asbel shrugged a shoulder, "I wandered around town."

Aston gritted his teeth, "I told you last time to put an end to this ludicrous behaviour."

"I just think there's more to life than school."

"Is that so? In that case, how do you expect to get into university and follow in my footsteps if your grades aren't up to scratch?" His father demanded.

"And I've already told you, I'm not taking over your stupid company," Asbel snapped.

Aston's hand gripped tighter around his arm, "You can't feed you family with silly drawings! When will you open your eyes and accept reality?"

"Aston, please!" Kerri cried out. Dressed in an apron with frazzled blue hair, she stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching with wide worried eyes. Her words ceased the argument, but nothing could ease the tension in the air.

Father and son stared at each other, mirror images in appearance and fury.

Then, the son wavered. Asbel yanked his arm out of his father's hold. He stormed down the hallway, picked up his shoes and threw the doors open.

"Asbel! Come back! We can talk about this–" Kerri cried.

His mother's cries fell quiet when the door slammed shut.

* * *

Damn that old bastard. Why wouldn't he just give up already?

Asbel kicked a rock and it rolled off into the bushes. Ever since he'd started high school, Aston had been on his case. Get good grades. Behave well. Apply to a good university, son, because one day you'll take over my boring finance company and be miserable for the rest of your life!

Why couldn't the old man understand that he _already_ had dreams? Dreams that were definitely going to come true some day.

The longer Asbel walked, the quicker his anger began to fade, and his thoughts came more clearly. Aston was a pain in the ass, but Kerri deserved better. His mother always tried her best to understand him, supported him even, and most of the time he ended up yelling at her anyway. Next time, he promised himself, he'd do something nice for her.

When Asbel finally came to a stop, he found himself at a familiar playground. The sun had sunk beyond the trees, casting an orange hue over everything. His fury had completely dissipated.

He remembered the days he spent with Hubert and Cheria here, playing together after school. For old time's sake, he squeezed onto the swings, feeling the chains heave under his weight – too old for the swings, how sad was that?

Not wanting to risk a head injury, or worse, a broken arm, Asbel got up and headed over to the bench – _like an old person_. He shrugged off his backpack and retrieved his sketchbook.

Pencil poised over a fresh page, he waited for the ideas to flow.

"You're here again…" Said a soft voice.

If he wasn't so used to her quiet entrances, he would've jumped sky high. "Oh, Sophie, hey!" Asbel greeted cheerfully, "You're out late."

"I had club practice…" Sophie explained.

Asbel felt his eyebrows come together, "But it's getting dark." She was much younger than he was, only in her first year of middle school.

But she just gave him a small smile, "I can look after myself. I'm in the karate club."

"K-Karate? Serious?" Again, Asbel couldn't help but wonder. Her purple hair was so long, it almost touched the ground – wouldn't that be a hindrance? "That's… impressive," He murmured.

Sophie giggled into her palm. She shuffled over the gravel and settled herself down on the empty bench space beside him. Her large purple eyes peered curiously at the sketch book on his lap.

"What are you drawing?"

"Hmm, I dunno yet." Nothing had come to him; it was like the argument had exhausted all of his creative energy. "What do you think I should draw?" Asbel asked.

Sophie thought for a moment, "A flower. Flowers are pretty."

"That they are," Asbel agreed. And it would be the perfect present for Kerri. His mother loved to garden, and a drawing would last much longer than any flower.

Asbel swept his pencil across the page in quick movements, blocking in the curves and contours of the sopheria flowers that grew outside his house. Sophie watched, mesmerised – it made him grin, how people always seemed to be in awe of something that came so easily to him. See, who needed school.

"Hey, Asbel?" Sophie's voice suddenly seemed too loud, breaking his concentration, "Why don't you like it at home?"

The pencil almost slipped through his fingers. "H-Huh? What makes you think that I don't like it at home?"

"Because you're always here."

Asbel forced himself to smile, "I like it here."

Sophie met his eyes. Her gaze seemed to pierce straight through him, "Then why do you look so sad?"

His heart wrenched. "Ah… well. You know…" The young girl still stared up at him expectantly. She was so young, she wouldn't understand... not that it was fair to dump his problems on a thirteen-year-old anyway. He fumbled around for an excuse, "W-Wow, it's really late now. Won't your parents be worried about you?"

"Oh… yes…" Sophie murmured. Disappointment sank her posture; even her ponytail seemed to wilt slightly. "I'm sorry if I was being nosey. I just wanted to be a… good friend."

"You are!" Asbel reassured, "But don't worry about me, Sophie. My problems are silly and unimportant."

"Are you sure…?"

He nodded and stood up, "Come on, let me walk you home. And next time, I'll treat you to some ice candy, as thanks for worrying about me, okay?"

Her eyes lit up, "Really?"

"Really, really!"

"You're a good friend, Asbel," Sophie said.

With a gentle laugh, Asbel reached out and patted her head, "I have my moments."


End file.
